Plan - expansion
by PerfumedRose
Summary: This is an expansion of chapter 164 "plan"  As always not necessarily to have read that.
1. Chapter 1

**Plan – Expansion**

 **Chapter one**

Greg nursed his third glass of whiskey, he is not normally so careless on a weekday, but this was special circumstances, after all, it is not every day he is having a fight like this on a scale like this. Disagreements were there, he and Mycroft didn't had smooth sailing from the get go. Oh no, that little ship was met with a closed gate at the harbour, an anchor that twitch and struggled to let go of the ocean floor, then there were winds…rough seas….oh so many other metaphors he could think of.

Then the ship sailed…and it was beautiful, it was free, it was wonderful and the best chapter of Greg's life, which of course was a universal invitation for the world to mess it up.

'The road to hell is paved with good intentions' that is the saying, the fall back on messed up plans and broken dreams. Greg knew it was only a matter of time before it all went bully up, or the ship would hit a glacier, never mind iceberg. How on earth was he supposed to know that things would get wrong, so fast and so big?

The amber liquid taunted him and he retaliated by swallowing it all in one big sip.

"Another….please…" he added as an afterthought as he pushed the glass to the bartender. One light spot was that the bartender was already playing shrink to someone else on the other side of the counter and filled Greg's glass before he went back to the session.

Greg blinked when his vision became bleary and noticed it was filled with tears, waiting to spill. He refused. It was a bit of a yin/yang phenomena or something, his life changed when he met Sherlock, and his life became mixing of good and bad and sometimes worse. The best part was Mycroft, until now….

Finally, something was to happen that made him wake up in the morning with a smile and expectation, not 'oh blah dee blah murder and paperwork and a pint with the boys…' and now he has no idea whether he is still in a relationship with Mycroft, hell he isn't even sure if Mycroft will ever look into his direction again.

Greg took another sip as he thought back to how it all went wrong.

It was supposed to be a surprise but of course nothing ever turns out the way it is supposed to when the Holmes's were involved. It was supposed to be their one year anniversary and as always Sherlock made a comment – the wrong one and Mycroft misunderstood and now they are fighting. Mycroft decided that he didn't feel like listening to Greg, and haven't spoken to him in two weeks.

Every time he calls, he gets the same message. 'Mr Holmes is unavailable.' How is he supposed to explain when he isn't given a chance?

Greg eyed the glass and took out his phone, he should try again, and then again, drunk dialling isn't really his thing.

Greg opened his contacts and dialled, he must explain…

" _You have reached the voicemail of…."_ Greg hanged up the phone and drank the rest of the whiskey.

"Another?" Greg looked up towards the bartender then back at his glass.

"No….thanks…"

"Bill?"

Greg nodded and pushed the glass away as his other hand dug into his pocket for his wallet. As he took out the few bills he saw the small photo of him and Mycroft. A smile threatening to turn into a sob graced his lips. Mycroft didn't want him to take the photo but he did. Mycroft was looking at him and Greg was taken aback at the way Mycroft was looking at him. He can't remember the last time someone looked at him like that, and now it was gone.

Greg sniffs and cleared his throat and put the money on the counter.

"Keep the change." He uttered and walked out, focusing on keeping his stance, the whisky affecting his motor functions.

Once outside he took a moment to breath in the fresh air when his phone rang. He didn't even bother to get his hopes up that it would be Mycroft. He took out his phone. 'John' nope…not answering. He let it rang and switch over to voicemail. It stopped when the first ping of a message come through.

" **Answer. SH."** Greg growled. Piss off arsehole.

He hasn't even looked at Sherlock since that day, and just the mere mention of his name would make him shaking with fury.

The phone rang again but Greg didn't answer, he just lowered the volume and let it ring.

After the call another text came through but Greg ignored that one just like the other.

After the third call and text he was halfway home and angry. The whisky was making him brave and stupid and he knew if one of them calls again he will answer and say something he is going to regret. He really hoped they don't call again.

The phone rang…

Greg wasn't thinking straight, he wanted to take to a Holmes, but not this one.

"Fuck you." He yelled into the phone.

"It's me John." The subtle voice replied. It did nothing to calm Greg down.

"What do you want?"

"Are you drunk?"

"Yes Daad…you see your boyfriend fucked up the only good in my life, because well….I actually don't know why, maybe you can tell me….why is it that only the two of you can be happy together but the moment someone else is, he has to be his usual dick self and fuck it up?"

"Maybe we should talk in the morning."

"Of course your taking his side… precious Sherlock…ruining lives as far as he goes and you don't care, oh yes, because it was 'fun' you said once right….After everything I did for…." Greg trailed off.

"Listen mate…"

"He ruined my life you both can go to hell."

"I'll call to…"

"Don't." Greg hung up before John could finish and switched the phone off as he made his way home. He really wished that he could just explain to Mycroft, or that Sherlock would just get his facts straight.

∞X∞X∞X∞X∞X∞X∞X

Mycroft on the other hand was hurt, he thought he and Greg would make it, then Sherlock made that comment about seeing Greg having dinner with another man and he lost all sense of sense really, he didn't even wait for Greg to explain, he just turned around and walked away.

That was three days ago, the whole incident happened nearly a week ago and he longed for the presence of Gregory, his whole body and soul ached for him, but by now Mycroft had no idea what to do. A part of him desperately wanted to talk to him, to give him the change to explain, another part wants him to walk away from it all and never make the same mistake again.

Mycroft stared at his image in the mirror, every hair in place, every part of his armour polished and shining, perfection, years in the making, years of preparation, except the eyes…the coldness that was there a year ago was gone, a softness had creeped up in the irises, the blue lost some the arctic ice and instead was filled with some soft oceanic blues. It was because of Greg, he knew it. This…he…can't…without a second thought he walked away. He still has his work.

At the door he picked up his phone and umbrella. His notification light was blinking, he had a message. It was Sherlock. Well he didn't feel like talking to his brother, he probably wants to gloat some more. He didn't have time for this. Work….he can do this…plus he had a meeting

∞X∞X∞X∞X∞X∞X∞X

Greg was going through the motions at work, just doing his job day by day, John did try to call him the next day but Greg didn't answer, he hasn't tried again. It has been a week from hell that was the best way to describe. He knew he should probably apologise to both Sherlock and John, but not now when, he wasn't sure when, but he just knew that there's no way he can look at them, all happy together when he was broken and alone.

It was after another night of loneliness and falling asleep with the help of whiskey and beer that he got the idea. He just had to figure out whether it was vindictive or an apology, it was after the fifth whisky that he realise that he didn't care.

∞X∞X∞X∞X∞X∞X∞X

Mycroft came back from Cambodia yesterday and the first thing he did was having a proper lunch in his favourite restaurant. He was sitting alone, in his usual seat and would refuse to look up, if he did that Greg's silhouette would fill that space and it would hurt. He was so in thought that he never saw the man approaching him.

"Mr Holmes?" He looked up to see young man, he was very handsome and he was looking at Mycroft as if he was unsure whether to approach him.

"Yes?" He replied, eyeing the man up and down.

"Oh good, wasn't sure but the picture was quite different."

"I'm sorry, what picture, I can assure you, my picture hasn't appeared in any paper."

"No, the one Greg showed me." Mycroft froze. His eyes turning into lasers as he looked at the man.

"Excuse me?" His voice was like ice, and the man visible trembled."

"Your partner, he showed it to me, when we had lunch to make arrangements." Mycroft was furious, how dare this man talk about arrangements he and 'Greg' made. This is the man, who was with Greg when Sherlock saw them.

"I don't know who you are, but I will find out, and you will regret it, how dare you talk to my face about your plans with Gregory? Was the deceit not enough?" Mycroft growled out. The man's eyes popped out in fear.

"It was meant to be a surprise, for your anniversary…"

"What?" Mycroft asked. The conversation was turning more peculiar by the minute.

"You're one year anniversary, he asked me to arrange for the planetarium to be closed, so you two could be alone."

A dreaded feeling overcame Mycroft.

"Tell me everything." He demanded.

"I'm Timothy Hastings, the director at the Planetarium, Greg helped me with a case a few years back and I said if he needed my help, he should just ask, a month ago he asked if he could hire the planetarium for one night, for his one year anniversary, he said he didn't had the money for expensive gifts and special treatment, so he made a plan to do something else, and he asked me to help. I agreed." Mycroft couldn't believe what he was hearing; this all was one big misunderstanding. He needed to fix this, and soon. He didn't bother with saying good-bye or finishing his lunch, he grabbed his umbrella and practically run out the place, he needed to fix this, somehow. He only hopes Greg would listen to him.

Sherlock made one comment and he flipped, and now oh God, how was he going to fix this?


	2. Chapter 2

**Plan – Expansion**

 **Chapter two**

Today was the day, it was their one year anniversary, Greg wanted to cry and scream and run away, but he was impassive. He was sitting at the table, a big table laid out with dinnerware, midnight blue satin with ice blue decorations, silver tableware; it fitted in perfectly with the room around him. A big globe of stars as the roof, planets and space drifting through, the half bottle of whisky was the sore thumb in the picture, but then so was Greg. He looked up when he heard a door opened to the right and the unmistakable sound of two persons walked in, the sound of the footsteps stopped, and then slowly started again. Greg could feel the men's eyes burning into his back. He sighed and looked up.

"Hello Sherlock, John. Thanks for meeting me here. I should probably apologise for my words the other night."

Sherlock ignored him and John shook his head slightly. He understood.

"It's fine."

Sherlock didn't reply, his eyes taking in the surrounding, his eyes narrowing to the set table and resting on the half bottle of whiskey.

"Greg what is this?" John finally asked.

Greg held out his hand.

"This…this is my cheating moment with Mycroft, the dinner I had with the 'man that wasn't Mycroft' he so put it was with Timothy Hastings, the man in charge of this place, tonight is our one year anniversary, or would've been, and as Sherlock once put it, I am not on the level of…well, bluntly, too poor for his brother I thought I would spoil him to a nice romantic dinner, the planetarium all to ourselves…." Greg trailed off, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

Sherlock and John stared at him, Sherlock screwed up and from the evidence before them, Greg was a mess.

"Greg." John started stepping closer.

"Well boys, have a good night, I'm off."

"What is the meaning of this?" Sherlock finally asked, speaking for the first time.

"Oh this…I thought at least one couple should enjoy the evening since you are the only allowed to be happy. Cheers." He said as he took another sip of the whisky and turned around to leave.

John stared at him, never expected Greg to do something like this.

"This isn't right Greg." He growled and Greg turned around, his eyes blazing in fury.

"Yeah was going to go for glitter and mass media text saying 'Wrong…sorry' but realised that would be just a little too dramatic."

They watched in silence at his retreating back, the door closing behind him with a soft thud.

∞X∞X∞X∞X∞X∞X∞X

Greg stared at the telly, it was on, but he had no idea what was playing, some new drama or something. It was after nine, and he should probably go to bed, but that required effort and energy and he didn't had that at the moment. The knock was soft against the door and Greg hardly heard it when it was followed by a louder knock.

Who on earth would bother him this time of the night? He closed his eyes; he can only think of two…one is attached to a doctor, the other to an umbrella. He didn't want to open the door to either of them.

With a long suffering sigh he stood up and made his way to the door, the whole way to the door he tried to prepare himself mentally for whoever was at the door, it didn't helped.

No amount of preparation could prepare him for this. It was Mycroft, in jeans, a shirt and blazer, no umbrella, no suit, none of the usual armour he would have when confronting someone.

Greg stared.

Mycroft stared.

It seemed like forever when Mycroft broke the silence.

"Hey…"

"Hi…"

"Can I come in?" Mycroft's voice was laced with pain and grief and exhaustion, Greg wanted to feel sorry but then he remembered the last few days and hardened his heart.

"Why? Why now?"

"We need to…I need to talk to you."

"You do realise that I wanted to talk to you for days…and you ignored him, give me one reason I should allow you he curtesy to talk when you denied me?"

Mycroft visibly flinched when he heard that, but kept his back straight.

"You shouldn't, I messed up…royally I know that…"

"Do you know what you put me through?" What you did to me?" Greg asked, his voice getting louder.

"Yes." Mycroft replied.

"Oh you do?"

"Pain, disappointment, agonising resentment, seeking refuge in bottle hoping for some kind of miracle, some kind of way to turn back time. Unrelenting anger at me, and my brother, frustration for the way I allow my brother to get to me, but most of all, sadness that what we have may be over due to my insecurity and unwillingness to listen."

Greg stared at him as he talked, listening with wide eyes.

"Yeah…so you do know…doesn't change the fact that you hurt me."

"I know…" Mycroft looked around before he turned back to Greg.

"Can we talk inside?"

Greg frowned slightly and opened the door wider so he can walk in. Greg run his head over his face and closed the door.

Mycroft walked to the living room, standing like he didn't know what to do. Greg went to the kitchen and came back with another glass; he waved his hand as an invitation for Mycroft to sit down. Without asking he poured two generous amounts in each glass and slid one over to Mycroft, who took it with his hands and cradling it close as he sat down.

"What made you come over?"

"I met Timothy Hastings, he…um…cornered me at a restaurant, you apparently showed him a photo of us and he recognised me, telling me all about your plan."

Greg chuckled.

"Yeah…look how that turned out."

"I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions, I should've listened to you, trusted you…."

"Yeah…you should've."

They were quiet, both cradling their drinks like a lifeline. Greg swallowed down a lump in his throat, this was their anniversary, and this was supposed to be a day of celebration, not pain, not this….

"I'm tired Mycroft…I'm so tired." Greg voice was soft, hoarse and Mycroft paid all his attention, all his focus on the man in front of him. Greg didn't look at him; instead he looked at something over his shoulder.

"Gregory…"

"I'm tired…I'm drained…I'm emotional, these past few weeks have been hell, I didn't even had this with my ex, this…I can give you a list of emotions of facts on why you should stay away from me, and why this would never work, I mean you certainly thought about it too, our backgrounds, so much and above all of these your brother was the one who succeeded and I for the life of me can't figure out why…Why?" Greg finally turned to Mycroft on the last word.

Mycroft stared, everything that made his strong, made him who he was failed him. He tried to open his mouth to say something but nothing came out.

Greg looked away and finished the liquid in his glass.

"Please don't…" Mycroft finally half croaked. Greg turned to him. Mycroft knew he had one chance.

"Gregory please, you have every right to walk away, and usually I have a speech ready and can negotiate but I'm all out of words, except that I regret my actions, I regret what happened and I wish I could go back, but I can't, I can only promise that I would try to do better, that if you give me a second chance I can learn from this, I can lose a lot, but I can't lose you, please." Mycroft stumbled and Greg was stunned, Mycroft was right, Mycroft is usually so put together but now, he was stumbling over his words and speaking from the spur of the moment, this wasn't rehearsed, it was original and heartfelt.

The truth was, he wasn't ready to call it quits either, but they do have for all intents and purposes start over, a clean slate.

"Okay."

Mycroft eyes widen the hope like fluorescent lasers. Greg gave him a small smile and stood up, he walked the small distance to Mycroft's seat, Mycroft's eyes didn't waver off him, and Greg kneeled in front on Mycroft.

"We have a lot of work to do, a lot of communication issues to sort out."

Mycroft nodded, too afraid to speak.

"This doesn't mean we will go back to the way we were, we have to start over, start with a clean slate."

"Anything…I'll take anything." Mycroft's hands reached out and gripped onto Greg's their knuckles white with the tight grip.

"You will need to woo me all over again, make me fall for you all over again, make me trust you all over again."

Mycroft smiled, for the first time he arrived at Greg's place, his eyes were filled with unshed tears but he was happy.

"Anything…I'm sorry Gregory."

"Me too. We will do better."

They sat like that for a few moments when Mycroft slowly let go of Greg's hands.

"I'll be right back." Greg frowned at that but stood up as well. Mycroft made his way to the front door and opened it.

"Give me ten minutes."

"What?" But Mycroft didn't hear him, the door closed behind him with a soft click. Greg stood in the middle of the room confused. He watched the clock and sure enough ten minutes later there was a knock on his door.

Greg walked to it and opened it only to be surprised once again. Mycroft stood there with a bag of take-away, a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers.

"Mycroft?" Greg asked dumbfounded.

"Good evening Gregory, I was hoping that you would be interested in having dinner with me, you see I like you, quite bit, and was hoping to persuade you to spend some time with me?"

"My..."

"I want tonight to be a new beginning, not a celebration of a year gone by, but year filled with new beginning and second chances.

Greg smiled and Mycroft mirrored it as Greg opened the door to let him in.

Author's note

I tried to end it on a realistic note, although the idea of them permanently separate is there I am a sucker for happy endings and wanted something that wasn't too easy.

This way they still have a long way to go and need to sort out a lot of issues.

I also didn't bring Sherlock back and the resolve of that fight as it wasn't pertinently to this story.


End file.
